


A New Normal

by Sinclaironfire



Series: Remember Me [3]
Category: Coco (2017)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, BAMF Coco, Coco Dies, Coco Rivera the Original Rebel, Coco is like Hector, Did Everybody Miss Me?, F/M, Get ready for angst, Hector has Night Terrors, Hector has PTSD, Hector has nightmares, Hector is messed up, Hector's been through hell, Imelda Gets Therapy, Imelda Has Anxiety, Imelda Has Panic Attacks, Imelda has nightmares, Imelda is messed up, It Doesn't Work But Still, Past Torture, Protective Coco, Protective Imelda, Protective Riveras, Recovery, Use of Mental Health Services, a for effort, actual therapy, angst all around, but that's a given, coco is a badass, recovery fic, they have issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-16 04:51:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 19,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13628955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sinclaironfire/pseuds/Sinclaironfire
Summary: Dying was easy, adjusting to the afterlife and seeing her father again was hard.





	1. Just A Nap

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone, I'm here to create angst and feels.

 

* * *

 

Coco Rivera never thought she would ever hear music being played in her family again and yet, despite the nearly century-long ban, music was freely flowing out of every window of the Rivera family household. Her great-grandson Miguel practiced the songs that her father sang.

“Remember me,” he sang soft and sweetly to his new baby sister, “Though I have to say goodbye. Remember me, don’t let it make you cry~”

It was funny but sometimes, he reminded her of her father. The way Miguel put his heart into the songs, he wasn’t just performing, he was singing the songs as they were meant to be sung. Coco watched Miguel sing to the newest addition who carried her name. Miguel bent down on one knee. His sister reached out to hold onto him and Coco, felt her heart break a little. The scene was sweet and adorable and oddly familiar. Where she knew it from, Coco didn’t know.

Advancing age came with many drawbacks but none quite like a deteriorating mind.

She rested in her wheelchair and sighed. She couldn’t remember what she was thinking about. Her thoughts fled from her mind as quick as a flash. Holding onto anything was a trial and more often than not an exercise in futility. Not to mention, it was awfully tiring. She couldn’t shake off the feeling of exhaustion. It had taken hold of her and refused to let go. She folded her hands in her lap. She needed to rest.

Coco Rivera slowly went to sleep and she never woke up.  

 

* * *

 


	2. Incoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coco wakes up dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It feels so good to be writing again.

 

* * *

 

 

When Coco opened her eyes, she was nearly blinded by a bright white light. She found herself not in her wheelchair in her family’s courtyard but in a hospital bed with crisp white sheets. Coco barely had a moment to collect herself when suddenly, a hand grabbed her.

“INCOMING!”

Coco was yanked out of the bed and thrown into a vacant chair. The bed that she was in was now occupied by another – Coco gasped. There was a skeleton in the bed. Coco gripped the arms of the chair in shock. It was then that she saw her hands. She now had skeletal hands. And her mind! It was clear as day. The muddle thoughts that had long since plagued her mind were gone. Coco remembered everything and she could process new information without it being lost by her disease.

“Shit,” she gasped. I’m dead.”

The woman who had yanked her out of the bed turned to her. The woman was also a skeleton. She had black frizzy hair and red markings on her skull.

“Hello!” she panted. “Welcome to the Land of the Dead. As you may have guessed, you are dead! I welcome you, um…uh,” The frazzled woman flipped through the files she had on hand. “Um…uh, I’m sorry, Mrs. Angela Costa?”

“I’m Socorro Rivera.”

“Oh! I’m sorry!” the woman profusely apologized, “I’m so sorry Mrs. Rivera. I-I didn’t mean to-”

“Are you okay?” Coco asked. “You seem a little…off. What’s your name?”

“Officer Maria Guzman!” she saluted. “I-“ The radio at her hip whined. Guzman groaned and shouted, “INCOMING!” She grabbed the skeleton in the bed and pulled him out. She threw him into a vacant chair while another skeleton took his place.

“Is it always like this?” Coco asked.   

All around her, in hospital beds, newly deceased appeared out of thin air. As soon as they landed in the beds, they were placed into chairs. Officers ran to and fro to get everyone welcomed and on their way.

“There were a couple of catastrophes,” Officer Guzman groaned. “The death toll is still going and-and there doesn’t seem to be a sign of it stopping.”

“What exactly is this place?”

“The Waiting Room of the Dead, part of the Department of Family Reunions. It’s where the newly deceased like you…uh, arrive. From here, you will be reunited with your family.”

“My family?” Coco gasped. “With my husband and my daughter? An-And my parents?”

The cruelest thing about the dementia that rotted her mind was forgetting her family. That wouldn’t be the case anymore. She would see her husband and her daughter and her parents! Her father…her father had to be down here. She would finally get to see him and get to ask him the question that she never had an answer to: Why didn’t he come home? All these years, she knew that her father loved her. So why had he never returned home?

“Si! If you’ll give me a moment, I-I’ll print out the address and-“

Another flash of light and a new body occupied the bed. This skeleton was smaller than all the others and it cried out in a still small voice, “I want my mommy!”

Officer Guzman flinched and choked back a sob, “Oh…I hate getting kids…” She pushed her feelings down and approached the child. “It’s okay, sweetie. Your mama’s here. We’ll get you to her.” Officer Guzman rocked the child until the tears stopped. “It’s okay…it’s okay…”

The child was fine but Officer Guzman was barely holding back her tears. Coco overheard her mutter, “…kids shouldn’t die….kids shouldn’t die….kids shouldn’t die….”

“You’re busy,” Coco said. “I can find my family.”

“No, it’s against protocol! Y-You need to be greeted and escorted to your family. There’s a book that you have to review and certain customs like the Marigold Bridge that have to be explained and-“

With yet another flash of light, another skeleton child was in the bed. Crying quickly ensued and Officer Guzman, emotionally and physically drained, caved. She nodded to Coco. “I’ll get you the address…”

Officer Guzman, carrying two crying skeleton children, went to her computer and typed out the address. Normally, she would never do this but desperate times called for cutting corners. She had deceased children to think about and Mrs. Rivera, while elderly, had a good head on her shoulders. She could find her way around the expansive Land of the Dead but the children? They needed her more.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Rivera. I would escort you myself but-“

Coco shook her head. “Think nothing of it, dear. You’ve been a great help.”

Coco left the ever crowding waiting room and went outside. She had no time to waste. She had to find her family.

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think everyone will be happy to know that this story is probably going to be longer than Broken Bonds and Bones.


	3. Waiting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How Julio met and fell in love with Coco Rivera.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Sinclair here and I've got something to say about the future updating schedule. Some of you might have noticed that with 'Broken Bonds and Bones', I was updating pretty much every day and the reason behind that was I was unemployed and looking for work. I had time to write fanfiction but now, or rather yesterday, I finally heard back and I now have a job! So, I'm afraid that I won't be updating every single day anymore. Don't worry though, I'll still work on this story and future stories but at a slower rate. I hope everyone understands and for missing the last couple of update days, have an extra long and angsty chapter!

* * *

 

Before he was ever a Rivera, Julio was a carpenter. He worked in his family’s store and created beautiful pieces of furniture. There was nothing that he couldn’t create and nothing that could ever distract him from working until one fateful day.

It was a bright summer morning and the wildflowers were in full bloom. A gentle breeze was in the air and coming all the way from Mariachi Square, Julio heard the music. Hearing music wasn’t anything new, especially from Mariachi Square but the voice! It was the voice that caught his attention straight away. It was soft and low but sweet and strong. Julio listened intently as he worked on the desk in front of him, not really paying attention to where he was swinging his hammer. As soon as the voice passed the store, he accidentally smacked his hammer into his thumb. Julio howled in pain and doubled over. He missed seeing the woman but managed to catch a glimpse of her long black braided hair. She disappeared into the crowd and Julio, wounded, returned back into the workshop to look after his broken thumb. 

Days later, Julio never stopped thinking about the voice that he heard. His wistful sighs and longing looks to the outside world did not go unnoticed by his sister.

“Ay, what’s gotten into you?”

“I think I’m in love…”

Rosita shouted and hugged her brother. “WHO?”

“I don’t know!” Julio gasped as breathing became difficult. “An-And I think it’s a crush!”

She released her brother. “Who? Who is she?”

“I don’t know. I heard her voice and, “ He sighed again. “I can’t stop thinking about her.”

“Aww, you’re looking for your Cinderella, hermano!”

“I thought Cinderella was with shoes, not a voice?”

“Shoes, singing – a minor detail,” She shrugged. “What’s important is that you find this girl. Strike up a conversation, woo, fall in love.”

“I don’t know anything about her!” Julio laughed, pushing Rosita away.

“Which is why you should find her! What’s the worst that could happen?”

She had a point. All he wanted to do was find the woman who had that voice and talk to her if nothing more than to deal with his crush and get his head back into making furniture. Julio spent his free time at Mariachi Square, hoping to hear the voice one more time but he never heard it did. Dejected, Julio started to walk back home. He squeezed his way past the bands and dancers when suddenly, out of nowhere, Julio saw a shoe coming towards him. Julio was struck with the heel of a finely made boot. Julio never stood a chance. The air knocked out of him and his head aching, Julio collapsed to the ground. Coughing and hacking, desperately trying to breathe and see again, Julio barely noticed a woman with long black braided hair hovering over him.

“I’m so sorry!” she apologized. “I-I didn’t see you there, Senor!”

If he was able to, Julio would have gasped. It was her! The woman with the voice! And then he realized who she really was: Socorro Rivera, daughter of Imelda Rivera, who was the scariest woman in town. Julio’s heart broke. What he felt for Socorro would never go beyond a crush. There was a reason why Socorro was unattached to anyone, her mother drove off any suitor who came to call singing their love songs. Julio fell into despair. If he couldn’t compete with the greatest singers in their town, how could he ever hope to catch Socorro’s attention?

“Are you sure that you’re okay?” she asked, holding him steady.

He nodded, unable to say anything worthwhile. What was the point? She was Socorro Rivera and he was Julio Martinez. They might as well have been on different planets.

“I’m so sorry,” Socorro apologized again. “I didn’t even see you there.”

“It’s okay….” His voice was raspy and weak.

After knocking him silly, Socorro insisted on walking Julio back to his home. She steadied him and hand in hand they walked. Socorro held him tightly and the entire time they walked, she showered him with apologies. Julio could only nod and smile. He knew it was an accident.

“You’re a great dancer,” he struggled to say.

Socorro brightly blushed. “Thank you but please, don’t say anything to-“

“COCO!”

As fast as a summer thunderstorm, Imelda ran to her only child and to the man whose arm she was around. Imelda had her boot off. Julio saw his entire life flash before his eyes.

“Mama! It’s not what you think!” Socorro defended.

“I’ve told you, musicians are nothing but trouble!”

“He’s not a musician!”

“I’m a carpenter,” Julio wheezed.

Imelda lowered her boot just a hair. “A carpenter?”

“Julio Martinez, at your service, Senora Rivera,” he coughed.

“And what are you doing with my daughter, Julio Martinez?”

Once more, Julio saw his life flash before his eyes. He didn’t want to die and the pleading look Socorro gave him made him fluster. He panicked and did what everyone does when they’re scared and panicking: Julio lied.

“There was…a fight…at Mariachi Square,” Julio explained between coughs. “I went to go…break it up…I got pushed off the stage. Senorita Rivera was…walking me home.”

Imelda turned to her daughter. “Why were you near Mariachi square, Coco?”

“I heard the fighting and shouting,” she flawlessly lied. “I wanted to see what was happening and then I saw Julio get knocked off the stage and…well what was I supposed to do, mama? Leave him there? It’s like you said, ‘Musicians don’t care about who they hurt’.”

“Ay…those musicians…” Imelda sighed and shook her head. “Take Senor Martinez home and come straight back.”  

“Si, mama.” Socorro nodded. She and Julio started walking. They didn’t look back. They kept their sights ahead on the horizon. As soon as she was sure that they were safe, Socorro hugged him and gasped, “Thank you!”

Julio melted at her touch. “For what?”

“For covering for me. Mama hates everything to do with music. She doesn’t know that I dance.”

“She doesn’t know? But you’re a great dancer. I’m sure if she saw you-”

“No! She wouldn’t understand.”

“You shouldn’t lie to your mother.”

Socorro grinned. “You lied to her.”

“I panicked!”

“You should panic more often,” she smiled, making Julio’s heart flutter. “I’m going back to the square tonight after dark. Want to come with me?”

“Yes!”  

It was the start of long nights sneaking out to dance in Mariachi Square. For a year, Julio and Coco were each other’s confidants but their nighttime mischief came to an end once the store took off. Coco was needed at the store and when work was done she was too tired to spend the night dancing away. Julio found that spending time away from Coco was as pleasant as smacking his hammer against his thumb. So, he did what anyone who was in love: He proposed.

Socorro said yes in a heartbeat. The Riveras were thrilled but none quite like Imelda who was relieved that her daughter wasn’t going to marry a musician. Still, Imelda was the head of the family and since Julio was going to join the family, he needed to be made aware of the reason behind the music ban.

“I was married to a musician,” Imelda said, shocking Julio. “But he thought music was more important than family. He abandoned us.”

It was at that moment that Julio hated Coco’s father. How could anyone see fit to abandon his family for something like music? Fame came and went but family was forever. Julio understood the music ban and agreed to follow through with it. He loved Coco more than he loved music and dancing. With his understanding of the ban, Julio got to marry Coco. It was one of the happiest days of his life. His wedding day was rivaled only by the births of his daughters. And yet, in every life, a little rain must fall. For the Rivera’s the rain was a perpetual storm. It started small. Coco started to forget things like orders and the names of household objects. But then it was people’s names and addresses that she forgot. The doctors all said that she was overworked and tired from her demanding job as Imelda’s second in command.

The family diverted the duties to give Coco relief but it was an exercise in futility. Coco’s condition got worse. It wasn’t until one late summer’s night that Julio realized how bad it was. They were walking together in the courtyard after they put the children to bed. The stars were bright and shining and the moon graced the night with her majestic beauty.

“I love you, Coco.”

“I love you too…um…”

The Socorro whom he loved and married was dying mentally before his eyes. She forgot things. She was prone to fits. She was stuck mentally in a different world. There was nothing the family could do. Julio would admit that it was hard to love someone whose mind was deteriorating but there were moments when Imelda’s back was turned that Coco would lean over to Julio and whisper, “I’m going to the square tonight. Want to come with me?”

Julio always said yes. They would never make it to the square but the fact that she remembered, even after all these years and with a deteriorating mind, made his love for Coco grow. He knew that deep down, her disease could not stop their love.

But death did put things on hold.

Waking up without Coco by his side sent Julio into a panic. He had died! He left his wife and children! He abandoned them just like Coco’s forgotten father. Imelda, Oscar, and Felipe did their best to reassure Julio that he hadn’t abandoned his family.

“It was your time,” Imelda said, trying to calm him down.

“But Coco! She needs me!”

“You did what you could,” Oscar said. “She’ll be fine. She’s got Victoria and Elena.”

“Coco is in good hands,” added Felipe. “You’ll see her again.”

The closest Julio ever got to seeing Coco again was every Day of the Dead. It was a poor substitute to actually holding her and talking to her and telling her how much he loved her but it was all Julio had. Every year, the Rivera family grew and Coco’s mind got worse. Time dragged on. Julio wondered when he would ever get to hold her again. He wanted to be able to speak to her but the idea of the love of his life dying was painful to think about it. Every day, Julio wanted and dreaded that phone call from the Department of Family Reunions. On the day of Hector and Imelda’s anniversary date, Julio got a phone call that he would never forget.

“Rivera Shoes,” Julio answered the phone. “This is Julio. How many I help you?”

“- Department of Family Reunions!”

“What?” He held the receiver closer to his skull. “W-Who is this?”

“Julio?”

He recognized the voice among the background noise. “Gabriel? What’s wrong?”

“I-It’s my great-grandson, Julio. It’s Diego. H-He’s died.”

“Oh…mi amigo, I’m so sorry.”

“He was twelve, Julio!” Gabriel cried. “There was an earthquake an-and….he died. We’re trying to get to the Department of Family Reunions but we’re stuck in traffic. We haven’t moved in half an hour. I don’t want my great-grandson to be waiting alone. I know that this is a lot to ask but you’re closer to the Department than we are. Could you please go down there and greet him? I -”

“I would be honored to do it. I’m leaving the store right now.”

“Thank you, Julio!”

So it wasn’t the phone call that Julio thought it would be but nevertheless, Julio left the store to go downtown. He arrived just as traffic started to go into a deadlock but he didn’t notice. He was too busy trying to think of what he would say to a dead child. Hopefully, the agents and officers would explain the basics and he would have the task of waiting with Diego until Gabriel and his family arrived.

Pushing his way through the crowded waiting room, Julio found the line to greet dead family members. The exhausted agent behind the desk faked a smile and asked, “Who are you receiving today?”

“Diego Rodriguez.”

The agent typed away on an ancient computer and sighed, “Here we go, Diego Rodrigues of Mexico City, age 88.”

“88?”

“He lived a good life,” started the agent, reciting what he had to say to everyone who was shocked by the injustice of a life taken by an act of nature. “He’s in room –“

“No, no. I’m here for Diego Rodriguez, age 12.”

“Diego Rodrigues spelled D-I-E-G-O and R-O-D-R-I-G-U-E-S?”

“No. Rodriguez with a Z, not an S.”

The agent gasped and covered his mouth. “Senor, I’m so sorry. There was a mix-up. Someone sent out the wrong…I’m so sorry.”

Julio sighed with relief. “No, it’s okay. Thank you!” He made a beeline to the nearest payphone. He anxiously waited for Gabriel to pick up and when he did, Julio barely let him say hello.

“Diego’s not dead!”

“What?” Gabriel gasped. “H-He’s not?”

“No, he’s still alive. There was a mix-up. It was a different Diego.”

“Oh, thank god!” Gabriel sobbed happily. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, Julio! God bless!”

“God bless.”

He hung up and Julio sighed wearily. He was glad to not have to greet a dead child into the afterlife but he couldn’t help but wonder when he would get the phone to come and greet Coco. He would wait forever for her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What could be more romantic than Julio and Coco being rebels?


	4. Second Meetings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second meeting for a couple who had long been separated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter but it's what's written that's really important.

* * *

 

Dementia was a cruel disease. It ravaged the mind, it stole memories and made the person that it afflicted a shell of their former self. There was no cure for it in life. The damage done to Coco’s mind left her an invalid but death had restored her mind. Everything was clear and bright. There wasn’t a single thing within her mind that she couldn’t remember.  

Coco left Officer’s Guzman’s company and home address in hand, she went out to the lobby of the Department of Family Reunions. There were skeletons everywhere. Men, women, and children filled the exceedingly cramped lobby. The chatter of hundreds filled the air. The static-y intercom could not be heard over the sound of the traffic outside, the people going to and fro from attendant to attendant, and the crying of newly deceased children. It was mind-boggling and overwhelming and the noise was deafening and Coco welcomed it with open arms.

It had been so long since she had the mental facilities to process her environment. The lights and sounds, the people, and objects, she knew it all. She loved being able to think clearly but Coco’s favorite part of having her mind and body back was the fact that she could move again. No longer confined to her wheelchair, Coco was free to walk, run, but more importantly, dance. Her steps carried the delicate twirls and spins that she adored doing when she was young. Her moves were rusty but she still had it. She was a dancer through and through and she would continue to dance into her afterlife.

When she reached the outside of the Department, Coco happily twirled in place. There was nothing keeping her stuck anymore. She could move, she could dance, and she could think. She never felt so good. Lost in her blissful world, Coco scarcely paid attention to her surroundings. She did her signature move, a high kick that earned her admiration and later on in life a husband, and accidentally swung her foot into the face of an unsuspecting skeleton.

The man’s head came off with a solid POP! And it rolled away a few feet from his body. Horror-stricken at decapitating a fellow member of the undead, Coco was quick to apologize.

“I’m so sorry! I-I didn’t see you there, Senor!”

She picked up his head and upon seeing his face, she recognized him instantly. Flesh or none, Coco knew her husband when she saw him.

“JULIO!”

“Coco?” he gasped. “Oh, honey!”

“MI AMOR!”

She showered him with affection. There wasn’t a spot on Julio’s skull that Coco did not kiss. She put his skull back on his body and when he was normal, she hugged him as tightly as she could. She laughed and giggled and held onto her husband. She never wanted to lose him again.

“Coco!” he hugged her back and said, “Coco, honey, w-when did you get here?”

“Thirty minutes ago!” she kissed him again and again. “Oh, Julio, you’re as handsome as I remember!”

“Honey, I’m a skeleton,” he mumbled, blushing a little. He wasn’t exactly the young man that Coco had married all those years ago.

“Si,” she agreed. “My handsome skeleton husband.” Dead or alive, Coco was in love with Julio.

“And my beautiful skeleton wife,” Julio said with a little laugh. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’ve missed you too, mi amor.”

They stood outside of the Department of Family Reunions for the longest time, sharing the first moments of romantic love and affection that both were starved of for over thirty years.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Julio and Coco would be like teens in love. You guys can take this headcanon from my cold dead hands.


	5. Memory

When Julio had died, the first few moments of his afterlife were filled with panic, fear, and the horrible shame that he had in death abandoned his family. When he married Coco, he swore he would never be like her forgotten father. He would be there for his family no matter what. He hadn’t planned on death. When he was escorted home by Imelda, Oscar, and Felipe, it dawned on Julio that one day Coco would die as well and that he would be called to escort her home too. Bearing that in mind, Julio vowed that when that day would come, he would make it up to her.

He would bring her flowers, they would sneak out to a dance hall like when they were young, and Julio would vow his love to her again when he would get that phone call that Coco would die. Getting his head kicked off by his beloved wife was not part of the romantic plan that he had.

“Mi amor, I’ve missed you so much,” Coco was relentless in her affection for Julio.

“I’ve missed you too, honey.”

There was a painful ache in Julio’s heart. He loved Coco more than anything and while he yearned to hold his wife in his arms once more, to see her dead was a brutal blow.

“I didn’t think I would ever see you again, Julio. I…mi amor? What’s wrong?”

“I’m sad,” was Julio’s reply. “I missed you and I love you but I didn’t think that…it’s hard to see-“

“Me as a skeleton?” Coco asked. She scoffed and kissed him roughly. “Now you know how I felt waking up next to your corpse!”

“Oh…you remember that?” he asked nervously.

“I remember _everything_.”

They started walking towards the trolley station. Holding hands, Julio couldn’t help but see how much she really did remember. “How did we first met?”

“I kicked you,” she said with a kiss. “And I walked you home. Thank you for covering for me, mi amor.”

“What’s my middle name?”

“Enrique.”

“Your favorite flower?”

“Marigolds!” Coco laughed.

“What are the names of our children?”

“Elena and oh…my little Victoria! Ay, Julio! My baby! My little baby girl!” she sniffled. “I haven’t seen her since she died…oh god, _I_ died. Elena! I’m a terrible mother! Elena’s going to find my body and-“

“Honey, honey, honey! You can’t think like that! I know exactly what you’re going through and mi amor, you can’t go there. You can’t mourn the living, you have to embrace the afterlife.”

Coco scowled, still torn between her living family and the dead. “How is Victoria? Is she well?”

“She’s fine, honey. She’s…she’s going to be shocked when she sees you,” Julio then said with a little laugh, “Everyone’s going to be shocked when they see you!”

“Everyone? Mi mama? Tio Oscar and Felipe?”

“They’re here! So’s Victoria and Rosita and –“

“Mi Papa?”

They stopped walking. Julio turned to Coco and nodded. “He’s here too.”

She screamed. “I knew it! I just knew it! I knew he wouldn’t abandon mama and me! I knew it! H-He…died. That’s why he never came home.”

They boarded the trolley and as it took them high over the land of the dead, Julio found himself in the difficult position of explaining Hector’s sudden and unfortunate demise. Where to even begin? There was no easy way to explain Hector’s murder or Ernesto’s betrayal. Julio had seen how hard Imelda took the truth and carried the guilt of erasing Hector from the family for nearly one hundred years. Granted that Coco was much more forgiving but still Julio was panicking. He wanted to simply say, ‘He was murdered by Ernesto, mi amor.’ But that lacked tact and kindness that his wife deserved.

“He tried so hard to come home to you and Imelda,” Julio said mournfully. “He never wanted to leave you.”

“Why? What happened to him?”

“Ah…I think that-“ The trolley gave a terrible groan and it stopped mid-air. Julio and Coco clung to the safety bars. When it was safe to walk again, they went to the back of the trolley.

“Don’t worry, honey,” Julio said, welcoming the distraction. “I’m sure we’ll start moving again after a few minutes.”

Julio had never been more wrong in his entire afterlife.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julio gets the job of explaining Hector's death and Miguel's curse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so far behind on answering reviews but I will get to them tonight.

“Senoras y Senores, this is the LOD-TC, I regret to inform you that we are experiencing some delays due to new arrivals. We ask for your patience at this time as we work to return to our normal schedule.”

That was the public announcement that went out to every trolley in the Land of the Dead. From the Shantytowns to the towers of long-dead celebs, everyone heard the message. Of course, those who had family members or friends newly dead to the world, had no need for the message. They were stuck in traffic or waiting for their rides or finally decided to walk to their destination. Had they not been stuck in a trolley, suspended high above the world below, Julio and Coco would have gladly walked home but they had no way of knowing that the delays would turn into hours stuck in traffic.

In the tiny back railing of the trolley, there was barely enough room for two people let alone for two people to be dancing. However, Coco and Julio made due. Pressed against each other, swaying to music that only they could hear, they waltzed. Their moves were rusty but soon it was like they were young again and time had not robbed them of their moments together. But there was only so long that Coco could enjoy dancing again and being in Julio’s arms before the question that plagued her entire life: Why had her father never returned home? She took one look at Julio and her husband knew that he couldn’t delay it any further.

“Honey, it’s not good,” Julio said, wanting to prepare her for the worst.

“How bad is it?”

“Remember that time when we were courting but your mother didn’t know yet and we were in your room and she heard us and we panicked and we accidentally set fire to your curtains and I had to hide underneath your bed and she nearly found me?”

Coco buried her face in her hands as the memory surfaced. “I…I remember that.”

“It’s worse than that.”

“Oh god…”

“I can’t stress that enough but your father is one of the kindest and most determined man I have ever known. He loves you and Imelda so much. He never wanted to leave your or Imelda.”

“So what happened to him?”

Julio told Coco everything. He left not a single detail out. He told her how Hector while on tour, missed her and Imelda and decided to return home after a performance. He told her about Ernesto’s determination to become famous and loved by millions made him view Hector’s love for his family as a liability and that Hector’s lack of devotion to his dream made him a traitor.

“He offered Hector a poisoned drink and…well on the way to the train, Hector…he died.”

Rage and grief took hold of Coco. “He _murdered_ my father?” she seethed. “And he was never caught?!”

“It was a different time, honey. Hector didn’t know about it either until Miguel-“

“Whoa, what? Miguel? What does he have to do with mi papa?”

Julio chuckled sheepishly. “This past Day of the Dead was um…nontraditional.” Yes, that was a good start. Break the news to her slowly. “Miguel, he might have stolen from the dead, and he got cursed.”

The look Coco gave him could have killed. “Miguel got what?”

“It’s fine! He’s fine! He’s not dead but um…ay, I’m not explaining this great, am I?”

“No, mi amor, you aren’t,” she couldn’t help but be crossed. “Explain. Now.”

“Miguel, he, ah…you know how every kid goes through that rebellious stage? Well, Miguel wanted to be a musician and you know how great that would work out in our family.”

“The music ban, si,” she nodded. “But that didn’t stop us and it didn’t stop Miguel either, did it?”

“No,” said Julio. “He knocked over Imelda’s photo and when he saw the man and the guitar, he assumed that his great-great-grandfather was-“

“Ernesto de la Cruz,” Coco growled.

“Si. He was so excited, mi amor to be related to a musician but-“

“He is related to a real musician: my father!”

“I know, I know but he didn’t know that. I guess the family discovered his love for music and so, kids will be kids. Miguel took the guitar.”  

“Which brought him here?”

“Si and when Imelda discovered that her photo wasn’t on the ofrenda and that Miguel wanted to be a real musician like your papa, it um, uh….it didn’t go over too well.”

“Ay, mama…”

“She told Miguel that she would send him back on the condition that he would give up his dream of being a musician. There was a fight and Miguel ran away.”

“I can’t believe her. Why would she do that to her own great-great-grandson?”

“I wouldn’t judge her too harshly,” defended Julio. “What Imelda did was wrong but as we were going through customs, she was denied from crossing over. She thought she was being forgotten.”

“I don’t understand.”

“The Land of the Dead runs on memories, mi amor. Our stories, our lives need to be passed down in order to survive. Without it, we can die again. It’s called the Final Death. We become forgotten and we die. That’s what happened to Hector. We didn’t honor him or pass down his stories or anything! He was…he didn’t get to cross over. He didn’t get to see you or Imelda or our family while he was dead.” Julio saw the pain and horror spreading across Coco’s face and he was quick to remedy it. “But it’s okay! He’s okay! Once Miguel found out the truth, everything changed. People know about de la Cruz, they know Hector’s the real genius behind the music, and Imelda, she knows that he tried to come back.”

“Is mi papa okay?” she asked, her mind reeling from the news.

“He’s great. I mean, the final death took a lot out of him but he’s alive and even though he still can’t cross over but-“

“What do you mean he can’t cross over?”

“No photo, no crossing. Hector’s photo, it’s gone.”

“Sneaking out with you and dancing wasn’t the only secret I kept from my mother, Julio,” Coco grinned mischievously. “I kept everything.”


	7. Fans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coco sees what Hector's fame has brought him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I live!

 

The traffic that deadlocked the entire Land of the Dead was hell but spending time with Julio was heaven. They danced and talked but most importantly, they caught up on the years that they had been separated. Between kisses and laughter, they filled the other in on their life and death.

“Enrique and Luisa named the baby after me,” said Coco cuddling against Julio. “She’s so cute and Miguel! Oh, he loves his little sister.”

“Aww, you know that the first thing that Victoria does when we cross over is to check on Elena?”

“She does?”

“Yes, she wants to make sure that the household is being run in the same style as Imelda.”

“Trust me on this, it was. But now there’s music and Miguel plays constantly. There’s hardly a moment without music in the house,” Coco laughed. “He’s gone through so many strings. He’ll be playing so fast and then TWANG – it’s broken! We had to buy him a new guitar.”

“He doesn’t play with Hector’s guitar?” Julio asked, frowning. He would have to tell Hector when they got home. It would hurt his father-in-law to know that Miguel didn’t use his guitar.

“Oh he does, but for special occasions and for lullabies for his little sister. The rest of the time, he plays on his practice guitar. He treats Papa’s guitar as if it was made out of glass. I tell you Julio, the first time he broke a string on Papa’s guitar, he cried so much. Ay, my poor baby…you would have thought the world was ending. Enrique fixed it, of course, but Miguel was upset for days.”

“Oh no…”

“Has Papa played? Using his guitar?”

Julio took a sharp breath. “Eh, he hasn’t quite picked up a guitar and performed since Miguel’s adventure. Music is a sore subject for him, I’m afraid but he’s got a studio and he’s working on a song for Imelda!”

“He doesn’t play? But my Papa is a musician.”

“I know, honey but…time and after everything that has happened? It’s hard. He doesn’t…he might not be the same Papa that you knew. The fans don’t help either…”

“Fans?” Coco asked.

“Ah, your father is the most popular musician in the Land of the Dead. Everyone loves him but he doesn’t love everyone. After the whole Ernesto thing, the fans and paparazzi went crazy. Everyone wants a piece of him.”

“Is it bad?”

“It’s been a little hard, more for Hector and Imelda than for anyone else but we’re working through it. Hector is a part of this family and nothing is more important than family.”

 

While family was highly important to the Riveras, nothing was more important to Hector’s fans than catching a glimpse of their beloved idol. When Julio and Coco, both exhausted, finally arrived on the street where the Rivera family lived, a mob of Hector’s fans had taken to the streets in hopes of seeing him. There was a veritable sea of fans separating Julio and Coco from the front door of the house.

“Oh my god…” Coco gasped. “Julio…you weren’t kidding.”

“I could never joke about this,” Julio stressed. “These people are crazy.”

The mob began to chant Hector’s name and Coco, for the first time, felt fear for her father’s well-being. These people were standing out in the street, in the early hours of dawn, just to see her father. Didn’t these people have their own lives? Why were they so focused on her father? The way that they shouted his name, like a prayer, scared Coco to no end. The fans stopped being people and became faceless, ravenous monster that wanted only one thing: Hector. The fans’ shouting got louder to the point where the windows shook in their panes. And then, just as it reached the pinnacle, the front door was thrown open and four new skeletons came out and raised their voices to match the volume of the crowd.

“GET OUT OF THE STREET!” shouted Oscar.

“GO HOME!” shouted Felipe.

“HECTOR’S NOT COMING OUTSIDE!” screeched Rosita.

“LEAVE MY PAPA HECTOR ALONE!” roared Victoria.

“Mi familia!” Coco cried joyfully. She jumped up and down and waved but between the Riveras shouting and the mob’s hysterics, Coco’s voice was drowned out. Still, that glimpse of her loving but deceased family was all that Coco needed to have her fears of her father’s wellbeing put to rest. Her family was strong and they were protective. Coco wasn’t sure of the scope of Hector’s fame but seeing her family defend him and the home with such vivacity made her feel better. With her family, Hector would be safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so it looks like for updates, it's going to be every weekend.


	8. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coco goes home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to apologize for not updating this past Sunday. There was an emergency, it got taken care of but writing had to take a back seat. I'll answer reviews, ALL OF THEM, over the week. I am paying attention to what you guys are saying and I love the support that you guys give to this fic.

Never in a million years did Coco think she would ever be shimming across telephone lines to get her family’s house while a mob of her father’s fans raged on below in the streets but there she was, doing exactly that. The mob was restless and her family was relentless as they shouted for the crowd to disperse. Coco was overwhelmed by it all. The mob, the shouting, the realization of how famous her father really was…This was going to be her afterlife now. It finally sunk in on how famous her father had become in death. The mob was cheering his name and for Coco, who had scarcely heard her father’s name in years, hated how it sounded on the lips of the strangers. When she reached the end of the telephone line and Julio pulled her over, Coco looked down onto mob and sneered.

“Can’t we do anything about them?”

“Like calling the police?” Julio scoffed. “They’re no help. The fans aren’t on private property. The most that the police can do is write them up for a noise complaint or for blocking traffic. They come back after a few hours. What you’re seeing right now our family is the best defense.”

As much as Coco was tempted to join her family in her father’s defense but death and the twelve-hour wait in the trolley had her utterly exhausted. As much as she hated to put it off any longer, she needed to rest. She needed to sleep. Seeing her father and reuniting with her family would wait until morning. Julio, sharing her sentiments, led her back to what would now be their shared bedroom. Julio’s bedroom was sparse. There were photos of Coco throughout the years, of his family but nothing much else. Julio’s afterlife was focused on the shoe business and the family he left behind in death.

“Eh, it’s not much but,” Julio said shyly, “But a new coat of paint, maybe some flowers and it could be something wonderful.”

“Being with you and sleeping in the same bed again is wonderful.”

No sooner had they laid their heads against the pillows, Julio and Coco were dead to the world.

 

When Coco woke it was with a gasp. Her mind was in a daze and when she saw her skeletal hands, she nearly screamed. But her memories returned and with it came clarity. She had died in her sleep, she was with her husband – Coco gasped. She looked over to Julio. She listened to his breathing. Up and down went Julio’s chest. Although the dead no longer needed to breathe, the act of breathing was something that everyone did. Flesh could rot away but some acts of being alive never went away.

Listening to Julio breathe gave Coco peace. She lost him once in their sleep, she didn’t want to lose him again. Coco stayed curled up to Julio and listened to him breathe for the longest time. But by the time noon rolled around, she needed to stretch her legs.

“Julio? Mi amor?” Coco whispered, “It’s time to get up.”

“Five more minutes, please…” he moaned.

“If I get you coffee, would that help?”

“I love you…” Julio mumbled.

Coco kissed him. “I love you too, honey.”

Still dressed in the clothes that she died in, Coco left the warmth and comfort of her and Julio’s bed. Silently, she went down the stairs as to not wake the other residents who stayed up fighting her father’s insane fans. It wasn’t hard for Coco to find the kitchen. All she had to do was follow the voices that she hadn’t heard in decades. Peeking in, she saw the skeletal versions of her family. Rosita was at the stove, Victoria was at the island kitchen, and Oscar was slumped over the island and Felipe was barely standing up.

“Who wants coffee?” Rosita yawned.

“I do,” mumbled a sleepy Victoria.

“Por favor,” said Felipe. “Eh, Oscar? Do you want-“

“Just pour it into my skull….”

Felipe scowled. “Don’t make me do…all…the work…” He fell asleep next to his brother on the island. Victoria helped herself to the coffee. She poured half of the pot into an oversized mug and drank deeply from it.

“Ay, Victoria, go easy on the caffeine,” Rosita chided.

“I need caffeine to live. Do you want me to end up like them?” she jerked her thumb in the direction of her sleeping great-uncles.

“What would your father say?” Rosita asked.

“I don’t know what Julio would say,” answered Coco, “But I know I would like a cup.”

The exhausted Riveras screamed and welcomed Coco with open arms. Cries of “Mama!” and “Welcome home!” and “We’ve missed you!” filled the kitchen. Coco greeted and hugged each member of her family, reserving an extra tight hug for her daughter who died too soon, too suddenly.

“I’ve missed you all,” Coco cried. “It’s good to be home.”


	9. A Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coco sees her father again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The day I get my work life, my writing life, and my private life together is the day that I become a well-functioning person. Today is not that day, so have a late update.

Coco was embraced by her family. Tears were had by all except for the family’s matriarch and patriarch who were not yet aware of their daughter’s passing.

“Where are my parents?” she asked, “Where is mi mama? And papa?” An uncomfortable silence fell over the Riveras. “Where are my parents?” Coco asked again.

Oscar looked to Felipe who nervously drummed his fingers together. “Aha, uh…um…they’re sleeping. They’re upstairs.”

“I want to see them.”

Felipe flinched. “Ah…okay. We need…we…” he took a deep breath. “This is something for Imelda to explain.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Mama?” said Victoria. “Papa Hector, he had an accident.”

“An accident?” Coco gasped. “Is he okay?”

“We’re dead, Coco,” explained Rosita. “There’s not much that can hurt us but Hector, he’s had a hard afterlife. He hasn’t been well for decades. We’re not sure what happened but he’s suffered.”

“I’m going to see him,” she decided at once. She marched up the stairs but was blocked by Oscar and Felipe. “Stand aside,” she glared at them.

“Quick idea,” said Oscar, “Why don’t you let us warm Imelda up for you?”

“She’s had a long night and with whatever’s happened to Hector, it’s going to be a shock to see you in the flesh…well bone,” added Felipe.

“Si! We’ll go in first, explain everything away and then you go in, alright?”

“Alright,” Coco agreed.

Felipe and Oscar led the way with Coco close behind. Her uncles spoke to each other through tiny hand motions, little shrugs, and the slightest roll of their eyes. They had their own language and Coco was denied into their private conversation. She knew that they were talking about her father. How badly hurt was her father?

“Imelda?” Felipe knocked on the door. “Are you okay?”

Was her mother hurt as well?

“I’m fine…” was Imelda’s quiet reply.

“Can we come in?” Oscar asked.

“No.”

Felipe and Oscar looked to each other and to their darling niece. Any other day they would have respected Imelda’s wishes but it wasn’t every day that her daughter arrived in the Land of the Dead. Imelda would want to see Coco as would Hector.

“It’s…It’s kind of important, Mela,” Oscar added urgently.

“We really need to come inside,” begged Felipe.

“Can it wait until later?” Coco heard her mother say.

Her uncles muttered and sputtered. They were torn by their brotherly instinct to give their baby sister the place she needed and their desire to give Coco the family reunion she’d missed. While the brothers were caught in their bind, Coco took charge. She went up to the door and said, “Mama? Can I come in?”

The door was thrown open. A skeletal woman with a single streak of white in her black hair stood in the doorway. She stared at Coco who nervously grinned and said, “Hola, mama.”

The woman fell to her knees and sobbed. It broke Coco’s heart to have caused her mother to cry but the tears were happy ones.

“I’ve missed you so much!” Coco said, trying to ease her mother’s tears. “Oh, mama, please don’t cry. It was my time.”

“How long?” her mother asked.

“Twelve hours, right, Julio?” she turned and saw her husband standing amongst her uncles, her sister-in-law, and their precious daughter.

“Yes, mi amor,” he replied with a kiss.

Julio’s love distracted her. “Twelve hours stuck in a trolley with me, mi amor,” Coco laughed mischievously. “That wasn’t so bad, right?”

Mixed in with the laughter, there was a small groan. Coco looked over onto the bed. There was little movement.

“Is that…Papa?” she nervously asked.

Imelda nodded and Coco went over. There was a man lying in her mother’s bed. Much of the man was covered up but his skull was exposed. Rosita hadn’t exaggerated when she spoke of Hector’s condition. His skull was fractured and cracked.

Was this her father? It had been so long and without flesh, it made the job of identifying him even harder but…Coco knew deep down that the man who taught her how to sing, how to strum a guitar, and how to dance, the man who now lay unconscious in bed, was her father. He bore a striking resemblance to Enrique or rather Enrique had inherited his looks. He looked so young. The little scruff of what one would dare call a beard was the sole indicator that he was out of his teens.

He’d died young.

It was strange but even with that knowledge, her mind always went to her father being older and yet ageless. She guessed that he was now.

“Papa?” she whispered softly. If she heard his voice then she could settle this matter once and for all. She needed to hear the voice that her mind and memories had lost so long ago.

The man in the bed stirred. His eyes fluttered opened. “Coco?” he weakly asked, his eyes not focusing on her but it did not matter. She heard his voice, she remembered him. He was her father.

“Hola, Papa,” she smiled.

Her father was in no condition to sit up, move or even hug. He was too weak but she was strong and had wanted to hug him, to be able to hold him again for decades. Coco hugged her father and for a brief moment, she felt herself as a child, sitting on her bed while listening to the songs that her father would sing to her. The moment ended much too soon. While Hector loved hugging his little girl again, he needed to rest and Coco let him sink back into his dreamless sleep. Hector was asleep almost instantly. He was in devastating condition. Coco turned to her mother. Imelda could barely return her daughter’s gaze without losing her composure.

Imelda hugged her daughter, and with a sigh, said, “It’s a long story.”


	10. Fault

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coco learns what happened to Hector.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the late update! I was ill these past couple of days.

There was no easy way to explain what had happened to Hector or the lifetime of grief and isolation that he suffered from. Imelda couldn’t put it off or sugarcoat it. There was no way to sugarcoat what torture Hector had gone through. Honesty was the best policy and it was with her daughter that Imelda knew that she had to be brutally honest.

“It was Ernesto de la Cruz,” Imelda explained.

“He did this to Papa?” Coco asked, her mind still processing the broken bones and cracks that her father possessed.

“Si.”

“But Papa was murdered, how is he still this….weak?”

Imelda frowned. “I don’t understand,” she said. “It wasn’t murder that put Hector like this, it was torture.”

“Ernesto did what?” Coco gasped. “He tortured Papa?!” Hector groaned at hearing his former’s friend and partner’s name. Coco lowered her voice, “He tortured Papa?”

“Y-Yes. We were going to meet for our anniversary but your father never showed up. I thought he…” Why burden her daughter with her own unfounded fears of Hector’s adultery? “I thought he left again. But he didn’t. Ernesto…I don’t know how but he kidnapped your father. He wanted Hector to write songs for him. Hector refused. Ernesto…he…” Imelda cast a worried glance towards Hector. “He tortured him.”

Coco experienced a flood of emotion. Anger was the first to be unleashed. She turned to Julio and with a glare that could kill a man, asked, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Julio put his hands up in defense. “I-I didn’t know, honest! I…I didn’t know.”

“Where is Ernesto now?” she asked.

“Spread across the Land of the Dead if Pepita’s done her job right,” said Imelda, her voice brimming with pride.

Coco looked to her father and her mother. Whoever Pepita was, whatever she was doing to Ernesto was not enough. Her heart burned with Rivera fury. Ernesto, wherever he was, deserved to feel the same extent of torture that her father suffered. She knew her father. He was a good man, a kind man. Never once in his life had he committed a crime or error that made this treatment of him acceptable. Ernesto needed to pay for his crimes.

“No,” said Imelda, sensing what her daughter was thinking. “You are forbidden to go after that man!”

“But mama!”

“There are more important things than getting what you want, mija, like family.” Imelda sat down on the bed and stroked Hector’s messy hair. “Please, for your father’s sake, stay in. Be with our family. We’ll discuss Ernesto another time but now? It’s family time.”

Coco buried her hate but she never forgot it. She would never forget the injustice done to her family. “Si, mama. I will stay.”

Julio reached for her hand which she gladly took. Julio brought her into a tight hug and she whispered to him, “I hate that man.”

“I know, honey.” Julio also knew Coco well enough that when she settled her mind on something, she would do it. He tried on numerous occasions to talk her out of her ideas and he had little success. But if there was one man who could truly move Coco to change her mind on revenge against Ernesto, it would be the one person who was absent in her life since the tender age of four: Hector. “Imelda? When do you think Hector will be…okay?”

“I do not know,” Imelda admitted, never once taking her eyes off of her husband. “People get hurt, bones break but they heal…The Land of the Dead runs on being remembered. Hector hasn’t been honored by our family for decades. He…” Imelda sobbed. “It’s all my fault! I caused this! If I hadn’t been so angry, if I hadn’t forced our family to forget…” she shook her head. “It’s all my fault!” Imelda wept.

“Mama…” Coco hugged Imelda. “It’s not your fault. No one blames you, not me, not our family, and certainly not Papa. The fault lies with Ernesto, not you.”

“Mija, it’s my fault. I caused Hector to be banned from our family. I wanted to forget him. I hated him so much.” She sighed heavily. “I wish I could take it all back. Every word I ever said against him, every curse I said in his name…oh, why did I throw his photo out?”

“You need his photo?” Coco asked.

“The world runs on memories. With his photo on our ofrenda, he could see our family. He would be remembered. Without the photo, he’s stuck in this land unable to visit and he’s one step closer to being forgotten forever. It’s all my fault…”


	11. Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coco is entitled to her own secrets.

All her life Coco knew two things about being a Rivera: 1. Music was forbidden and 2. Secrets were not to be kept from the family. By the time she was sixteen, Coco danced and sang freely thus breaking both rules at once. But singing paled in comparison to the secret that Coco kept even from her closest confidant, Julio.

Coco kept her father’s memory alive.

Her mother may have banned his name from being spoken and gotten rid of everything that reminded her of her spouse was Coco was less severe. When she was five, she saved his photo that her mother cruelly ripped from their family photo. When she was six, she dug through the trash to save his music notes. When she was eight, she hummed his songs and tried her best to remember her father’s fading voice. When Coco turned ten, she spoke to people who knew her father in life. She wrote down the stories that they told her.

Even her mother who swore up and down at any opportunity that she hated her husband and never wanted anything to do with him again was a valuable source of information. Occasionally, Imelda could be heard softly singing Hector’s love songs. The first shoes that Imelda made? Men’s shoes in Hector’s size. Sometimes she would make Hector’s favorite meal but would then throw it away. Coco kept track of it all. She kept her father’s memory alive up until her own mind betrayed her.

With her memory and mind dying, it seemed like the end for the man who gave her love of music. However, she hadn’t accounted on Miguel who shared her love and her father’s talent for guitar. He begged her to remember and told her how her father loved her.

And she did.

It was her father’s love that spurred her to do what should have been done ages ago: the music ban was broken and her father’s place in the family was restored.

“Mama?” Coco said softly and sweetly to her distraught mother. “You don’t have to worry about Papa.”

“W-What?” Imelda sniffled. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve been keeping secrets,” she smiled. “I’ve danced, I’ve singed, and I kept Papa’s photo.”

“You did what?” Imelda gasped.

“I kept everything, mama. His letters, his music, and his photo. Mama, Papa is safe. The ban is over. Miguel plays the guitar for the family. Papa will be honored in our family.”

Fresh tears came anew from Imelda. She brought her daughter into a tight hug and sobbed freely. Between the heartfelt ‘thank you’s and the heart-wrenching ‘I’m sorry’s, Coco knew that her family was back to where they should have been all those years ago: together. However, upon seeing her father’s broken and tired form, she knew it would be some time before everything was back to normal. But Coco had patience. She waited an entire lifetime to see her father again. She could and she would wait until he was once more the father that she knew and loved.

“When do you think Papa will wake up?” she asked.

Imelda sniffled and sighed. “I don’t know,” she answered pitifully. “I don’t know. He was in such a bad condition when I found him that…” guilt washed over her. “I don’t know…”


	12. VHS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julio is a good husband.

It would be a severe understatement to say that the Rivera family had been through it’s fair share of trauma both external and internal. The tightly knit family needed time to recover – none moreso than the ailing Hector Rivera whose condition was still precarious. The Riveras took their rooms and as Coco curled up with Julio on their bed, she had one thought running through her mind: Get Ernesto De La Cruz.

“Don’t,” urged Julio, with a slight shake of his head. 

“You don’t know what I was thinking!”

“You were thinking about going after De La Cruz,” he said without missing a beat.

“I hate it when you do that.”

Julio chuckled. “I can read you like a book, mi amor.”

“Hmm, then what am I thinking now?”

He closed his eyes and answered, “Hmm…I’m getting thoughts of dancing and yep! Still going after De La Cruz. Honey, don’t. Revenge isn’t what this family needs.”

“I know but he tortured my father, not once but twice. I…knowing that he’s out there, having the time of his afterlife is infuriating!”

Julio turned on his side and said, “I know something that might cheer you up.”

Coco turned on her side and said, “What are you hiding, Julio?”

“I was going to save this for a happier occasion but what the hell? Now’s as good a time as any,” he said as he reached under the bed. 

“What is it?” Coco asked. “Love letters? Photographs?”

“Something even better!” Julio said triumphantly. “Tada!” He held out a tape.

“A VHS?” she couldn’t help but laugh. “Honey, that technology is d-…oh….”

“Only dead technology exists here. I can’t wait till we get DVDs!”

“What’s on the VHS?”

“A little something that I think will make your night,” he teased.

“Let’s see I got to see my father, I got to be with my family, sleep in the same bed as my husband, and you think that whatever’s on the VHS will somehow top that?”

“Well, when you put it like that, I’m less confident but still, this is going to be good!”

He popped it in and jumped back onto the bed to watch with Coco. She curled up with her husband and thought that whatever was on the bed would surely ease the distressing events she had learned. When Coco saw Ernesto De La Cruz’s appear, she threw her shoe.

“Julio!” she hissed. 

“Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait! It gets good! Really good!” he said, pulling her back down before she could break the television with her shoe. “I swear it gets better!”

Coco held her rage but nearly lost it once more when Ernesto began to sing her song.

“Remember me! Though I have to say goodbye!”

She seethed and grinded her teeth. Coco wanted nothing more but to slap Ernesto’s smug face with her sandal but as her rage fueled the thoughts of sweet revenge against her father’s murderer, Ernesto on the tape was faced with an unruly crowd. They pelted him with everything that they had. Their chants echoed in the massive stadium.

“Everyone knows what he is now,” said Julio. “And this is only the beginning.”

From behind the stage came Pepita. She stalked forward, her teeth bared, and her claws out. Ernesto scarcely had time to scream before Pepita had him in her claws. 

“I love it.” Coco grinned.

“It gets better,” said Julio.

And it did get better. The video caught every moment of Ernesto’s humiliation but then came the cherry on top. Coco gasped as the bell cracked and was brought down onto Ernesto’s head. 

“Can we see it again?” she asked.

“Sure, we can see it in slow motion too!”


	13. Time

Somewhere around the 500th viewing of Ernesto’s public humiliation, Julio and Coco fell asleep in each other’s arms. As dawn rose over the Rivera household, Coco slowly awoke. She did not jump out of bed to greet the day. She stayed curled up next to Julio. Coco rested her head on his chest. She intently listened to his snoring and breathing as his chest rose up and down. Each breath that Julio took was a firm reminder that he was still of this world. As sunlight filled the room, Coco thought of how this was how she was going to spend every morning of her afterlife: waking up in the arms of the man whom she loved in life.

It was perfect! It was what she wanted. She might have lost her living family but she regained her mind, her husband, her daughter, and her parents again. She…oh her parents…Coco frowned. It was one thing to see her parents upset when she was a little girl but to see her mother so heartbroken and her father so vulnerable.

“Twenty-one,” Coco mumbled. “He was so young…”

He was still young. From what she could see, ninety years of death hadn’t changed much of her father’s appearance. He maintained his mop of dark messy hair, he still had his gold tooth, and his voice…oh how she missed the sound of her father’s voice. He sounded the same to her but he was still, what was the word she was looking for? Her father wasn’t dead (again), he wasn’t in a coma, he was just hurt. What could be done about broken bones for someone whose heart no longer held a pulse and whose breath has stilled ages ago.

Was this a problem that they all faced? Was this a standard eventuality for everyone? She didn’t think she could bear it if she was a matter of time until she lost her father again.

Julio shifted in his sleep and Coco’s heart was seized with new fear. What if she was going to lose him again? The first time she lost Julio, it devastated her and if she suspected right, his death was what started her rapid mental decline. She didn’t want to lose Julio. She didn’t want to lose her memories. As of now, she wanted to stay like this forever without worrying if or when she and the rest of her family would shuffle off this mortal coil and into whatever the hell came next.

Perhaps it was being under her parent’s roof once more or the fact that she knew so little about the Land of the Dead but Coco found it apt to speak to her mother. If things were going to get worse and she would one day lose her husband and her father again, then she wanted to know everything. Coco slipped out of Julio’s arms. She tiptoed to the door and went to her mother and father’s bedroom. The door was opened just a crack. She went in and on the bed was her mother and father.

“Mama? Papa?”

“Shh, mija, your father is sleeping,” Imelda said wearily.

Coco winced. “Sorry, I,” she went to her father’s side of the bed and saw that neither her mother nor father had moved much since she last saw them. “Mama? Have you left the bed?”

“I can’t,” Imelda mumbled. “I can’t leave. I already left him once. I can’t leave him again.”

“Mama…”

Imelda’s eyes were tired and sad. Practically lifeless, Imelda clinged to Hector’s form. “I can’t leave him again. It’s my fault. It’s all my fault.”

“It’s Ernesto’s fault,” urged Coco. “Ernesto! He’s the one who murdered papa!”

“That was Ernesto’s actions but your papa’s condition is my fault. We were meant to meet each other for our anniversary date. When your Papa did not show, I thought he left me for some floozy. After all we had gone through, I still didn’t trust him. If I had talked to him or gone to the studio after he did not show…none of this would have happened. I can’t leave him again, mija. I’ll lose him.”

“I feel the same way about Julio,” admitted Coco, “I check to make sure that he’s still here.”

“Oh sweetie…”

“I can’t help it. I worry that I’ll find him dead.”

“That won’t happened,” said Imelda. “Once you are dead, you are dead.”

“And being forgotten like papa?”

“That won’t happen…hopefully. Miguel is a good boy. He loves his family.”

“Is papa going to be okay?”

“I don’t know. I can’t say.”

“Mama, promise me that you’ll leave the bed.”

“But your father-“

“I can watch papa. Please mama, take care of yourself.”

“I will try mija.”


	14. Fathers and Daughters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victoria was closer with her father than her mother.

In the great circle of life, parents die before their children but in the Rivera family, the circle of life hit a bump. Once Julio passed, Victoria, a daddy’s girl to the very end, died shortly after. She didn’t mean to die so young but she did. She missed her father and with her mother’s mental decline, Victoria found herself stressed and overwhelmed. Her heart gave out on her and she died.

In the Land of Dead, she was reunited with her dear papa and her grandmother and great uncles. She got to be with her family again and was happy. However, the guilt of knowing that she had inadvertently left her sister to tend to their ailing mother and her failing memory weighed heavily on Victoria’s conscious. On her third night in the Land of the Dead, Victoria swore that when her mother and sister arrived, she would apologize and make it up to them but how did one go about apologizing and making up for a death? Victoria didn’t know but she was sure that when the moment came and when she was reunited with her mother and sister again, she would be able to make it up.

But now, here was her mother, in the bone, now living in the family house and being the Coco Rivera that Victoria only knew from her childhood and stories from her family members. Her mother’s dementia took its toll on her personality and Victoria never knew what her mother was truly like. She knew nothing of the woman who loved to sing and dance or who loved to cause just a pinch of chaos. The Coco that Victoria knew was a woman who forgot things like her name, where she was, and who her family members were. As hard as it was for Victoria to admit it, she had buried her mother from her childhood a long time ago.

Seeing her mother interact, laugh, and freely and lovingly speak to her family members was a bit shocking. The old Coco was gone and a new vibrant one had taken her place. Victoria fretted. Her mother was so different now. How much of her life did she remember? Did she recall the painful moments of when her memory failed her? Did she remember losing Julio? Or being taken care of by Elena? Victoria didn’t know. She didn’t know what she would say or do, how she would even begin to start the conversation with her mother. Thankfully, Coco was bold and she made the first move for her daughter.

“Victoria, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, mama,” Victoria answered a bit too quickly.

“Uh-huh…mija, why don’t you and I take a walk together?”

“But we’re getting ready for breakfast and I don’t think that Mama Imelda has-“

“Mama Imelda will not be joining us today. She’s staying in bed with Papa.”

“Oh…okay.”

Victoria went to grab her shoes and soon, she and her mother were out the door. They walked through the colorful and dazzling Land of the Dead in silence. Victoria still did not know how to talk to her mother but Coco, having mother intuition, knew that something was troubling her daughter and so once more made the push.

“What’s troubling you, Victoria?”

“Nothing, mama,” Victoria once again replied.

“Uh-huh, you do know that you rub your index finger and thumb together when you’re upset, right?”

“No, I don-“ Victoria stopped and realized that she was indeed rubbing her index finger and thumb together. She sighed. “How did you know?”

“I’m your mother!” Coco laughed. “I like to think that I know a thing or two about my children.”

Guilt surged through Victoria. Did that mean that her mother knew how she felt? “Um…what do you remember?”

“About what?”

“Everything?” Victoria answered, unsure of herself and her response.

“Oh…everything? I remember my papa braiding my hair, I remember the music and love in our home, I remember meeting your father and marrying him, and I remember the night you arrived and how scared I was because you didn’t cry.”

“I didn’t cry?”

“Elena was a crier. She could cry at the drop of a hat but you? You stomped, you shouted…if you did shed a tear you would run to your papa!”

“I’m sorry,” Victoria apologized.

“For what?”

“For being closer to papa than…you.”

Coco stopped and she shook her head. “Victoria, you are speaking to another daddy’s girl. I didn’t mind that you were close to your papa, I loved it!”

“Really?”

“Yes! I didn’t get that chance with my father.” She still didn’t know if she would get that chance but she would take what she could get. “I loved that you spent time with your papa and had the chance to build memories with him.”

“So…you’re not mad that I died and left Elena to take care of you?” Victoria asked nervously.

“Dios Mio! No! Sweetie, you lost your papa! And let’s face it, I wasn’t much of a mother when that happened. Mentally, I was dead.”

“Mama…”

“No, it’s true. Sweetie, my brains cells were dropping like flies. But know this, I love you. I loved you from the second I saw your face. I love how you developed into your own person, how you love had a relationship with your papa, how you became brave and strong and sweet. You are my daughter and I love you no matter what.”  


	15. Family Meeting

It was amazing how something so mundane like having breakfast could be made so amazing. Coco was having her first meal with her family…well most of her family. Imelda was intent on staying in bed with Hector. It was impossible to ignore their missing presence.

“How is she?” Oscar asked Coco.

“Scared, tired…it’s not good,” she wearily answered. “She needs time.”

But time went on and Hector showed no improvement. Imelda stayed in her bedroom with him and didn’t leave. Coco didn’t have the heart to rouse her mother from her father’s side but Rosita did. She loved Imelda as much as the next Rivera but she drew the line at Imelda’s self-imposed suffering. Rosita called a family meeting.

“We need to talk about Imelda. She can’t hole herself up in her room anymore.”

“She needs time,” Coco said.

“It’s been three weeks!” declared Rosita. “She needs to get out of the house! She needs to breathe fresh air! Have a meal with the family! Actually be with us.”

“She doesn’t want to be with anyone,” said Felipe.

“Except for Hector,” added Oscar.

“Except for Hector,” Felipe agreed.

“She needs her family. How can we say that we are supporting her when we never get to see her?”

“She…she just needs time,” Coco weakly repeated. “I miss mama too but you didn’t see the way she looked when I even suggested for her to come down for breakfast. I don’t know when she’ll be ready but I do know that she won’t be happy until papa is well back to normal.”

“But we don’t know when that will be,” said Victoria. “And Rosita is right. It’s been three weeks. I miss seeing my grandma and grandpa. We need to do something.”

“But what?” asked Julio. “When Imelda puts her mind to something, she’s going to do it. You saw the way she fought on stage with Ernesto. I wouldn’t want to put anyone between her and Hector.”

“We have to do something,” Rosita insisted.

“Can’t we bring a doctor to papa?” Coco asked.

“Doctors? What doctors? Our memories keep us alive and healthy,” said Victoria. “I would have thought that by now Hector’s memory would have been restored.”

“All of Santa Cecilia knows Hector wrote Ernesto’s songs. I can’t see what more would have to be done to restore his memory. Miguel plays his songs, he talks endlessly about Hector…what else could be done?”

“I don’t what can be done for Hector but something must be done for Imelda. If she won’t come to us, we’ll go to her.”

“What do you want to do?”

“Take turns spending time with her,” answered Rosita. “While one of us stays with Hector.”

“You want to get between Hector and Imelda?” said Julio slowly. “That sounds like suicide.”

“Someone has to do it and we’re already dead. What does everyone say?”

They were never able to give their answer. In their quiet moment of contemplation, they heard the sad mournful sobbing coming from Imelda’s bedroom. It broke their hearts.

“I’ll tell Mama,” said Coco standing up. “If she has to hear it from someone, it might as well be me.”


	16. Remember Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coco and Imelda have a heart to heart talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, hello! I'm alive! And if anyone is still reading this story, after so long, I'm sorry for my leave of absence. Life happens and I had to put writing on hold. But I promise that I will not let this story wilt. I will continue to update.

There was no easy way to approach the subject with her mother. There weren’t enough words in the world for to even attempt to suggest what she was about to suggest. Nevertheless, as Coco climbed the stairs to her mother’s bedroom, she knew that it had to be done. Rosita was right. It wasn’t healthy for her mother to shut herself in the bedroom and to never see the light of day or to have a moment of peace by herself.

But knowing that it wasn’t right and doing actually doing something about it were two different things.

Coco knew better than anyone how her mother grieved. Sometimes, she would mourn like a gentle rain. The pitter-patter of her sorrow lingering throughout the day. Other times, her grief would be like a hurricane. It would brew over time and without any time to prepare, it would be unleashed onto those who had struck her nerve. The kind of sorrow that Imelda now wallowed in was different.

It had the intensity of the hurricane but lasted longer than the rain.

There was no telling how long Imelda would continue to grieve as she did but Coco could not stand by any longer and let her mother suffer through it alone. They were a family and as a family the celebrated the joys and the woes together.

Coco stood before her mother and father’s bedroom. If she had a heart, it would have pounded like thunder. Quietly, she heard her mother sobbing. Coco strengthened her resolve. She wouldn’t and couldn’t let her mother suffer like this any longer. Going in without a clue as to what she would say or what could be said in such a situation, Coco held her head up high.

What she saw before her, broke her heart.

Imelda hadn’t moved much since Coco had last seen her. Her mother’s hair was down and her black locks partially covered the familiar skull of her father. Their bodies were entwined in a sad state. Imelda spooned Hector as if to protect him from the dangers outside of their bedroom. She was completely unaware that Coco had entered the room.

“Mama?” Coco whispered. “Mama?”

Imelda was lost in a world of her own. She knew nothing of time or others. Her thoughts were dominated by her husband and the torture he’d been subjected to. Coco stepped closer. She called out to her mother again but still, Imelda did not respond.

“Mama?”

Imelda was unreachable. Coco sat opposite of her mother on the bed with Hector between them. She placed her hands on top of her mother’s. Imelda looked up but barely saw her only child. She wasn’t thinking of her daughter or her family. Hector was her one and only thought.

“Coco?” she gasped, unsure if it was her daughter before her.

“Hola mama,” Coco said softly.

“W-What are you doing here?”

“I’ve come to talk to you.”

Imelda sniffled. “About what?”

“Mama, you and Papa, this isn’t healthy.”

“What isn’t healthy?” Imelda asked. “Coco, I don’t understand.”

“We need you back in the family.”

“I am in the family!” Imelda protested.

“No, no you’re not. You’re here and we’re down there. I never see you.”

Imelda shook her head. “You saw me a day or so ago.”

“Mama, it’s been three weeks!” Coco exclaimed.

“No! I…I…has it been?” Imelda murmured.

Coco, sensing her chance, pursued the issue further. “You promised me that you would leave the bed.”

“I will!” Imelda swore up and down but Coco knew that she wouldn’t. She hadn’t left in all this time and there was no sign that she would do it in the near future.

 “Mama,” Coco pleaded. “Please, we need you. I need you. And I know that Papa would want you to-“

“Your father wouldn’t want to be alone!” she sobbed. “You didn’t see him like I saw him! He didn’t recognize me after what that bastard did to him! Ernesto ruined him twice! He took him away from me! FROM US! I just want my husband, your father, to be….safe.” Imelda sighed. “I just want him safe. I want him safe….”

Exhaustion was taking it’s toll on Imelda. The once brilliant woman, now dulled by stress, anxiety, and fear. She had reached her breaking point. She sobbed and sobbed and Coco held her. Never before in her life did she feel so weak. Her mother was begging for the one thing that she couldn’t provide for her family: safety.

Ernesto was a cruel man who devastated their family this much was true. And there were people out there, raving fans and reporters, who held zero respect for their family and their privacy. There would always be people like Ernesto and those fans in their lives. There was no getting rid of them. It was an impossible but lovely dream. They would have to come together as a family to think of a plan.

However, plans would have to come later. Imelda could not contribute and Hector? The poor broken man was out like a light. Coco held her mother. She ran her fingers through her hair as her mother did when she was a child to her. Out of instinct, Coco sang. Soft and sweet, she sang the song that brought her comfort throughout her life.

“Remember me…though I have to say goodbye….remember me, don’t let make you cry. For even if I’m far away, I hold you in my heart. I sing a secret song to you each night we are apart.”

Oh, how far and apart their family was now. Everyone was divided and her mother was in shambles to say nothing of the condition her father was in. But then, as gentle as the wind, a new voice joined in.

“….remember me….though I have to travel far….remember me each time…you hear a sad guitar…”

Coco looked down. Hector’s eyes were open. He weakly smiled at his daughter and wife.

  
“Know that I’m with you the only way that I can be,” Hector feebly sang. “Until I’m in…your arms again….remember…me.”

Coco gasped and Imelda, renewed by Hector’s voice, showered him with kisses as she exclaimed, “Mi amor!”


	17. Apologies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Imelda is needy, Hector is exhausted, and Julio is off to build.

 

Words could not describe the relief and joy Imelda felt when she saw Hector at long last. For what felt like an eternity, she waited for the moment that she would see him again. Hearing his voice and seeing him again! Imelda kissed and caressed her husband as Coco ran downstairs to gather the rest of the family. It should have been happy moment. It had been so long since their entire family was together as one. However, as Imelda showered Hector with her love, he did not return her affection.

“Hector,” she moaned, “Why won’t you hold me?”

“Because,” he tried to answer between her frantic kisses, “I can’t move.”

The warmth between Imelda and Hector vanished. She turned him over onto his back. His head lolled over to the side. Delicately, she had him face her.

“Honey, mi amor,” Imelda attempted to bury the fear rising in her chest. “What can you move?”

His fingers weakly drummed against her forearms. The family filed into the room, each gawking at Hector’s miraculous awakening. The musicians felt shy and embarrassed. All those eyes, even if they were familial, made him feel as though he were on display for all to see. Imelda, sensing his discomfort, gave one look at her family and made it clear that questions were to be saved for a later time and date. What was important now was that Hector was awake.

“Papa!” Coco rejoiced. She climbed onto the bed and hugged her father.

Hector’s returned embraced was weak and practically non-existent but to Coco it was the strongest hug she had received from her father since he left for his disastrous trip.

“Coco,” Hector cried. “My little girl! I wanted to come back. I never wanted to lea-“

“I know Papa, I know.”

There was no point in having Hector excited – not when he could barely move his arms or the rest of his body.

“Julio told me everything. It’s okay. I know, Papa, I know.”

Hector relaxed a little at this. He trusted Julio and knew that the man would never leave anything out but he still felt the need to explain himself. After all, what kind of father would he be if he didn’t tell his precious daughter the reason behind his absence. Propped up by pillows, Hector attempted to tell the story of why he never returned but every step of the way, he was interrupted by Coco.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said with a firm shake of her head. “You’re here now with us, with mama, and me. I know what Ernesto De La Cruz has done. I know how hard you’ve worked to see our family again. I never doubted you – not once. I love you, Papa.”

She hugged her father again. They were a family again. Maybe they were slightly broken and perhaps a tad dysfunctional but they were Riveras and Riveras stick together. The rest of the family huddled Hector, each swearing that they knew he was a good and decent man and that there was no need to explain anything more.

“Rest!” Oscar and Felipe advised.

“Do not worry, Hector,” Rosita chided.

“Focus on getting better, grandpa,” Victoria said with a nod of her skull.

“We’ll be here,” Julio sighed. “Take it easy.”

Coco kissed her father on his forehead and gave him one final hug for the night. Exhaustion was coming hard after Hector. It was hard to believe that a man who spent nearly a month asleep could be exhausted but he was. Hector possessed little to no energy. Every twist of body revealed the extension cracks and fractures that Ernesto had inflicted upon him. It was painfully obvious to everyone that Hector’s condition was still unstable. He was awake but ambulatory was a far off dream for the musician and his family. His condition was on the forefront of Imelda’s mind but for now, she was simply happy to have Hector back in her arms and speaking.

She could finally sleep without fear.

But for the other Riveras, sleep did not come easy. They wondered what was next. Life was different now and so many things were unsure. As much as it pained them, they would just have to wait and see. But for Julio, who curled up next to his beloved Coco, the idea of waiting and watching did not appeal to him. He was used to fixing problems. He was after all a former carpenter. People came to him to fix things or to make new things. Healing Hector was out of his wheelhouse but the idea of his father-in-law being stuck in a bed for who knows how long was unbearable. The former carpenter slipped quietly out of bed and went to grab his tools.

He was going to fix this mess his way.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julio is a good husband.

 

Waking up alone was a terrible thing. Waking up next to your husband’s corpse was one of the worst things that had ever happened to Coco. Finding the love of her life dead left mental scars on her of which she never quite recovered. After Julio died, her dying brain cells recalled with crystal clear quality of finding him lifeless despite the toll her dementia took on her.

She started to relive that awful morning, grasping for him and trying in vain to shake him awake. He was the love of her life. She wanted to spend every morning waking up to him. Her disease earsed those precious memories she held dear to him and death took him away.

But death returned Julio to her and she spent many happy mornings waking up to his wonderful face.

Until that one morning, where Coco reached for her husband and found him missing. At once, she feared the worse: that he had died yet again and left her all alone. However, upon seeing her own skeletal hands, Coco’s memory was kicked into place. She was dead. Julio was dead. They lived in the afterlife together where the only fear of death was but a faint memory. Still, fear was fear and Coco feared losing Julio again.

She silently rose from her bed and crept downstairs. She had to find Julio. She wouldn’t be able to sleep again if she didn’t know where he was or if he was safe. Wandering through the house like a ghost, it wasn’t long before she found her husband. He was working out in the yard, in a little shack surrounded by pieces of wood and leather. Julio was in a world of his own as he hammered away at his latest creation.

“Honey?” Coco called out.

Of course, hearing his wife calling him did break his concentration. Instead of hitting the nail on the head, he hit his thumb.

“AY!” he shouted. “Ah!” Julio seethed.

“Julio! Are you okay?” Coco asked, rushing to him immediately.

“It wouldn’t be the first time your pretty face caused me to fracture my thumb,” he joked. “Ow…”

“Aww, do you want me to kiss you and make it feel better.”

He nodded and Coco complied. “What are you doing out here so late at night?”

Still tenderly holding his thumb, Julio responded, “Your Papa has been stuck in that bed for how long now? He can’t want to stay there forever so, until he gets better, I figured that a wheelchair would be good for getting him around. I-“

Julio was silenced by a kiss from Coco. “Thank you, mi amor.”

“It’s nothing, honey. Would you like to help?”

“Of course!”

Together, they worked well into the break of dawn on Hector’s wheelchair. Between the design and construction, Coco couldn’t help but wonder if this was the life that Julio imagined for them. It wasn’t what she pictured but then again, she never imagined that she would be in the Land of the Dead building her father a wheelchair. It was all bizarre and so strange.

“Honey?” Julio asked. “Everything okay?”

“I was just thinking about life…”

“Yeah?”

“Did you think we would ever be doing things like this?”

“Staying up late and creating stuff?” he answered her.

“No, being skeletons and staying up late and making wheelchairs,” she clarified.

“I will admit that the skeleton bit threw me for a loop.”

Coco laughed lightly. “It was a shock to me as well….for a while, I wasn’t sure if I was ever going to die. I kept getting older and older and it felt like there wasn’t an end. I am old.”

“Ah but you’re young at heart.”

She still dwelled on the past and murmured sadly, “Papa was 21 when he died. That’s so young, Julio.”

“I know, honey.”

“Do you remember what it was like to be that young? I thought I was invincible. Do you think Papa ever…” she didn’t know what to say. It was a terrible thing to think of someone murdering her father. Her Papa was the kindest man who lived. He never harmed anyone in his life and to have his life discarded so callously by a man who those ego and ambition dominated his thoughts was atrocious.

“I can’t speak for Hector but it’s over now. He’s here with us. We’re a family again.”

“No one thinks they’re going to die at 21, Julio.”

He sighed and nodded in agreement. “I know. It’s a young age.”

“65 is pretty young to die too,” Coco said.

“Coco, I never meant to leave you like that. I didn’t even know that it was my time. I…I was tired and then I was dead. I wanted to spend every morning waking up to you.”

A smile broke through. “I wanted the exact same thing and now we can do just that.”

And yet, Coco couldn’t help but continue to think of her father and mother. How badly had they waited to wake up every morning to each other? They were denied decades of being with each other and all because of Ernesto de la Cruz.

“I hate him.”

There was no need for Julio to guess as to who Coco hated. He merely responded with a tired, “I know, honey.”

They locked eyes with each other and in an instant, Julio knew exactly what Coco was thinking.

“No…” he said, shaking his head. “No, honey, no. We’re not doing this.”

“I just want to talk to him.”

“Liar! I know that face! That’s not the ‘I just want to talk’ face that is the ‘I’m going to smack someone with my boot’ face!”

“Mi amor…” she smiled.

“He’s a murderer! Ernesto has tried to kill two members of our family!”

“Julio…” she flirted.

“No, honey. I’m putting my foot down. We’re not going after Ernesto de la Cruz!”


	19. The Black Beach

“WHY DO I LET YOU TALK ME INTO THESE THINGS?!” howled Julio into Coco’s back as they flew over the Land of the Dead on the back of Pepita.

“You know you love it!” laughed Coco.

“No! I love you! I love our family! I don’t love revenge schemes!” He shouted but upon seeing the land far below, he buried his face into his wife’s back. “Ernesto de la Cruz has tried to kill two members of our family! And he was successful with Hector! And he nearly killed Miguel TWICE!”

“I know!”

She wasn’t blind to it. She knew the risks but confronting Ernesto was just something that she had to do.

“I know you know!” Julio groaned. “So why? Hector’s safe! You’re here with us and Miguel is back where he belongs. Why do we have to go piss off a murderer?”

“Because!”

“Because isn’t good enough!”

Coco shook her head. “We’re already on Pepita. Why does it matter?”

“Because this is crazy an-and insane an-and I don’t want anyone to get hurt. I want to go back to our home and stay with our family and forget that Ernesto ever came into our lives. Please, it’s not too late. We can still go back.”

“Honey, I can’t,” Coco answered, her voice nearly breaking. “I just can’t. For my entire life, I wondered what happened to my Papa. I knew what the people in town thought. I knew what my mother feared. My Papa was not the kind of man who would leave his family. I waited for some sign, a letter, a song, something to know that he still cared about us. I knew he still loved us but I never imagined that he was murdered. I have to see de la Cruz. I need to see the face of the man who killed my father.”

Julio sighed heavily but his grip around Coco’s waist never wavered. “Alright…”

“Thank you for doing this with me.”

“I won’t pretend that I know exactly what you’re going through but I love you and support you,” Julio sighed again. “Even if that means coming with you to confront family enemies.”

“Aww, what did I ever do to deserve you?”

With Julio backing her one hundred percent, Coco knew that whatever was to come with confronting Ernesto would be fine. However, finding the now disgraced musician was an entirely different matter. Pepita was an excellent tracker. She could find anyone but she was also a fierce protector of her family. When Imelda gave the order to hurt Ernesto, Pepita carried it out to the fullest extent that she could. She tore Ernesto apart. Over the Land of the Dead, she spread out his bones so that they may never reconnect. It wasn’t the same to tell Ernesto’s femur or rib cage how much she hated him. She needed to tell him in person.

“His head, Pepita,” Coco urged. “Where did you put his head?”

The alebrije purred mischeviously and led Coco and Julio to the farthest corners of the Land of the Dead. It was a vast ocean that was as dark as the night and it’s sand was pitch black. It was difficult to tell where the beach ended and the abyss of the ocean began.

“Where are we?” Coco asked.

“I…I don’t know. I’ve never been this far out. I don’t think anyone has. I think this is the end.”

“The end…wow.”

They stood in silence watching the waves crash onto the sand. It was an eerily beautiful sight. The rise and fall of the waves, the utter silence of the world surrounding them, it was far too easy to forget why they were there.

And they did.

Until the silence of the night was broken by someone loudly coughing and hacking. They searched the black beach for the source of the noise. It wasn’t hard. A pearly white skull on a black beach was too easy to find. Coco cautiously approached the skull sputtering water and insults.

“That damn woman!” he coughed unaware that he was not alone, “Damn woman!”

It became painfully clear to Coco to whom the skull was referring to but before she confronted him, she had to make sure that he was Ernesto de la Cruz. She would hate to unload the pain in her heart to a person who hadn’t harmed her family.

“Senor? Are you…are you Ernesto de la Cruz?”

The skull took a look at her and concluded two things: 1. That she was a woman and 2. She was old. With those two points together, the skull figured that the woman who stared at him with a mixture of awe and disbelief was surely a fan of his. He appealed to woman both young and old. Granted that while it was hard to ascertain the age of a skeleton, the woman who uttered his name said it so breathlessly that to conclude that she was anything else but a fan of his was ridiculous.  

“Si,” Ernesto said, oozing charm. “I am Ernesto de la Cruz. Oh, my dear woman, you don’t know how happy to see you. The most terrible thing has happened to me. I was attacked and my body is missing. Please, I-“

“I know,” she said coldly.

“Pardon?”

“I am Sorcoco Rivera. You murdered my father.”

Ernesto didn’t have a chance to respond to her. He barely opened his mouth when Coco, with all the strength she possessed, punted him back into the ocean.

She watched him scream and sink into the abyss. When he sank out of sight, Coco turned to Julio and said in a tone befitting someone who had gotten her revenge and wanted to return to her family, “I’m done! You want to go home now?”

“Yes!” Julio responded. “Do you feel better?”

“A little but I’ll feel better when we finish Papa’s wheelchair.”

“I feel the same way. Let’s go home.”


	20. Kisses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Imelda knows Hector

 

Hector woke up at five in the morning. Everything from his head down to his toes hurt. He started to wonder if this was all he would feel but Imelda turned and caressed his face and he felt something different. He felt warmth, peace, but most importantly, Hector Rivera felt loved.

“How are you feeling, mi amore?”

Hector sighed. “Tired.”

She brushed her fingers through his messy hair. “Is there anything I can do?”

He thought about it but the aches that traveled through his body were deep and profound. Sleepily, he shrugged and curled back into her embrace. “Why don’t we go away somewhere? Just you, me, and the familia?”

Imelda wouldn’t hear of it. “It’s too dangerous,” she muttered. “Too risky. What if there’s another De La Cruz out there? Or some crazy fan?” she fretted.

Imelda didn’t know how much Hector remembered of his brief but torturous kidnapping from Ernesto but the idea that there were people out there would wanted a piece of her husband dead or alive, scared her terribly. There was no telling who those people were. They all looked the same. She would never let him be harmed again. But how to keep him safe?

Hector watched as Imelda worried about the future. It made him feel terribly guilty to see her like this. And it was his fault. “Imelda, I’m sorry.”

“Whatever for?”

“Everything…I’m sorry for everything – that I wasn’t there for you and Coco, for leaving, for stupidly going with Ernesto…for dying. Getting kidnapped…everything…I never meant to cause you so much stress.”

“Don’t say that! It’s not your fault. I mean, some of it, yes, leaving us hurt but dying?! Getting kidnapped? NONE OF THAT WAS YOUR FAULT!”

“But I-“

“I don’t care! You didn’t deserve that, Hector! No one does! I love you and I need you to know that I love you and the life that we have together. It doesn’t matter that what happened. The past is in the past. All that matters is now. Do you understand?”

“I do but…”

“No buts! You are my husband! I love you for better or worse.”

“But it’s pretty bad now,” Hector reasoned.

“No! It was bad when Coco had the flu and we couldn’t pay for a doctor, it was bad when Ernesto had you playing in seedy bars. This was murder and kidnapping, Hector! You were killed! You were kidnapped! It’s not your fault! It was never your fault!

“But-“

“NO BUTS!” Imelda sighed. It wasn’t good to shout at Hector. He would take it as his fault. And he did. She saw it on his face. He took everything as his fault. She would have to go another route. “Hector, for every time that you blame yourself, I will kiss you.”

“What’s that going to do?”

“It’s going to remind you how much I love you.”

“But I-“

He was silenced with a kiss. Imelda smirked. “Would you like to try again?”

“I-“

She kissed him before he could finish. Every time a flicker of doubt crossed his features, Imelda was there to snuff it away.

“Never forget how much I love you.”

Showered with affection, it made it practically impossible to forget the love that she held for him and vice versa. However, the fact that he could barely return her love with the same physical force and attention was at the forefront of Hector’s mind. It was frustrating to have Imelda so close to him and to not be able to hold her and kiss her like he used to.

His limbs were useless. He was literally dead weight. How long was he going to be like this? Was he ever going to be back to normal? Hector thought of all the times he threw himself from some high point to or crashed to the ground by some accident. His bones would scatter. They dashed along the ground for miles and yet, he always managed to pull himself together.

Why was this time different?

Was it his memory? No, it couldn’t be. Coco might be here now but Miguel made sure that his memory was passed down. His family remembered him. They remembered music. He should have been getting better. He shouldn’t have been so weak. He shouldn’t-

Hector’s train of thought was interrupted by a flurry of kisses from Imelda. He locked eyes with her. A devilish smile was plain on her face.

“What did I tell you, mi amor?”


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> I would first like to apologize for not updating for so long. It's been a rough couple of months for me and I haven't had the energy to finish this fic but rest assured that it will be finished.

 

The wheelchair was truly a masterpiece. It was the finest piece of work that Julio had ever put nail to wood to. It was Coco however who had the eye for detail and design. Music notes were on the spokes of the wheels and on the back of the chair was an intricate carving of her father’s guitar. It took them the entire night but it was a labor of love.

When they were finished, they stood in front of their creative effort and proudly looked on. Their moment of triumph was broken by one thought that seem to hit them at the same time.

“How are we supposed to get it up the stairs?” they said in unison, looking at each other, hoping that the other would have a solution. The entire point of the wheelchair was that Hector could get around and rejoin the family. How was that meant to happen when there wasn’t a ramp from the downstairs to the upstairs? The disappointment was overwhelming.

Julio groaned. “Back to the drawing board.”

“I’ll go get a fresh set of blueprints,” mumbled Coco through her hands.

“And some coffee?” Julio asked.

“Of course, we’re getting coffee.”

They both went to the kitchen, holding each other’s hand in peace that together they could correct this oversight.

 

* * *

 

Hearing construction in the morning was normal in the Land of Dead. With constant new arrivals, the world was expanding but hearing construction in your own home when you were not made aware of any building going on was panic-inducing. Imelda rushed out of bed at the sound of hammers and what she saw startled her. The entire family was building what looked like to be a lift.

"What is going on?"

"Good morning, mama," said Coco between the nails in her mouth. "How are you?"

"I would be better if I knew what was going on."

"Mama and Papa thought it would be best if there was a way for Papa Hector to get around," said Victoria

"It's not healthy for him to be stuck in bed all day," explained Rosita.

"So we made a wheelchair," added Julio.

"But we forgot to make a lift," groaned Coco.

"But that's what family is for," laughed Oscar.

"And that's why we're building a lift," finished Felipe.

Imelda truly appreciated the wheelchair and she loved the fact that her daughter and son-in-law were clever to make such a beautiful piece but fear was at the forefront of her mind. Hector, her Hector, out and about in a wheelchair? It felt as though the family was asking for trouble.

The last time he went out, Ernesto kidnapped and tortured him.

The time before that the press harassed him.

The first time that Hector stood out as the true musical genius behind “Remember Me”, the fans and media broke his bones! And that was when he was able to stand up by himself and was somewhat completely fine!

To have him out now, in a wheelchair, while he was already so weak, wreaked havoc on Imelda’s nerves. People would never understand. They just wanted more of Hector no matter the cost. What would it be this time? Would some fan break into their home and steal a part of his bones? As far as she was concerned, there was no good to come from Hector leaving the house.

At the same time, she knew that it wasn’t right nor was it healthy but it made her feel better to know that they were safe inside the house. Going outside meant facing everyone: the fans, the crazies, the press, the entire Land of the Dead.

She wished that everyone would just leave them alone. She wanted her family to be safe. She wanted her husband to be safe. She wanted everyone to respect their privacy! Why was that so hard to do? They were a respectable family. They provided the best shoes that anyone could ever ask for. Why wouldn’t they leave them alone? Didn’t they, like any other family, deserve an ounce of privacy?

“Imelda?” Oscar whispered. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Liar,” whispered Felipe.

“I’m fine,” she repeated, glaring at her brothers.

Oscar and Felipe crossed their arms and stared her down. Imelda returned the look with a scathing one of her own. It was a battle of the siblings. Two brothers versus one sister. It raged on. The glares were fierce, the attitude was strong, but in the end there could only be one winner and in this case, it was Oscar and Felipe.

“We’re family. You know we can talk about things, right?”

Imelda gave way. “I don’t like this.”

“Do you mean that you don’t like this like you don’t like our idea for light up shoes or you don’t like this like the time you banned music forever?”

“…the music ban.”

“Ah…” They nodded. “You’re being irrational.”

“I’m not being irrational! I am looking at what’s happened in the past and applying it to the future. Who’s to say that Hector won’t be attacked AGAIN?”

“We do,” said Oscar with bravado.

“We do?” said Felipe whom after receiving a nudge from his brother, responded, “We do!”

“We’re family. We know better now. We will all be here. No one has to go through this alone.”

“Then why do I feel so alone?” Imelda asked.

“Because you carry the world on your shoulders,” said Felipe.

“Because you’re scared of people harming the family,” said Oscar.

“Because you’ve got a naturally suspicious nature,” added Felipe.

“Not to mention that once someone hurts you, you become extremely wrathful.”

“Okay, okay! Are we going to go every aspect of my character or –“

“We don’t have that kind of time,” they joked.

Imelda scowled. “Thank you for your kind input.”

“De nada,” they answered, smiling.

“But seriously, if you feel this…stressed…then maybe you should see someone?”

“What? A psycho-whatisit? I don’t need them.”

She didn’t need help with Hector disappeared or when it came to raising Coco. She was capable of doing anything. She was Imelda Rivera, after all. When times got rough, she rose to the occasion. Imelda Rivera did not flee in the face of danger. She fought it head on and she was always triumphant. Not death nor murderers could stop her.

“Times have changed. It’s good, healthy even, to speak to someone about issues like this,” pointed out Oscar.

“I don’t feel comfortable speaking to someone about my life,” Imelda said sternly. “This is a family matter and this will be handled within the family.”

“No offense to us, Imelda but the last time we handled this like a family, a music ban was placed and we never spoke about Hector ever again. I think this calls for professional help.”


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Imelda goes to therapy. It has mixed results.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who wants some dead people angst?

Imelda did not want, did not desire, or have any urge at all to see a psychologist. She was adamant that she didn’t need help. Why would she ever go and see someone head doctor? After everything that she had gone through, with losing Hector, raising Coco by herself, Imelda didn’t need help. She had done everything by herself, taken care of her family by herself, and saved Hector from Ernesto’s kidnapping plot by herself.

She didn’t need help.

She was Imelda Rivera.

She was invincible.

But that was a lie. That night, after the reveal of the wheelchair, Imelda was plagued by nightmares. The dream was always the same. She and Hector would be singing and dancing. They were enjoying each other’s company and love when an inescapable darkness would rip Hector from her arms. No matter how much he screamed or begged, the darkness would break him. If she was lucky, sometimes Imelda was fast enough to grab onto Hector before the darkness enveloped him completely. But when that happened, all she would be left with was his lifeless head.

It was a grim reminder of what nearly happened.

At first, Imelda was able to hide the fear that haunted her sleeping hours. However, after a few sleepless nights, it started to get to her. Some mornings she would wake up crying and no one could bring her comfort. Hector did his best but seeing him as he was, broken and frail, only made her cry harder.

The family didn’t know who was hurt more; Hector who couldn’t help Imelda or Imelda who couldn’t look at her husband anymore without bursting into tears.

No amount of words of comfort from the family could ever make this better.

One day, after another sleepless night, Imelda crawled into bed. Hector watched her carefully. He thought of what he was going to say to her but somehow the words got lost along the way and all he could tell was, “Imelda, I love you.”

“I love you too,” she sighed as her head hit pillow.

“Imelda? Mi amor? You know what I’ve always loved about you?”

She sighed again. Any other night she would love to talk to her husband, but she was tired. “What?”

“That you speak your mind,” he said, rather nervously. “Mi amor, is there anything on your mind? I…I know you haven’t been sleeping. I’m worried about you.”

“Honey,” Imelda turned over to face him. “I’m…I’m scared.”

“Scared?”

“I’m scared of everything. I don’t want to lose you.”

“You could never lose me.”

Imelda scoffed and Hector nodded, “Okay, you could never lose me starting….now!”

She laughed and draped her arms around him. They cuddled and for a brief moment, all seemed right with the world. Ah, but it was not meant to last. Cruel and dark thoughts crept back into Imelda’s mind. She was so close to losing him.

“Hector?”

“Hmm?”

“Would you…would you think any less of me if I were to see someone about my fear?”

“Imelda, I would never stand in the way of your well-being.”

And that was that. The next day Oscar and Felipe took Imelda to group therapy. She didn’t like it. There were too many people, too many curious eyes, and the way that the counselor looked at her! She hated the pity. The tone at which everyone spoke of such “sincerity”. It rubbed her the wrong way but for her own sake, she stayed but Imelda didn’t speak once.

Around the circle, people spoke of what troubled them and the fear that plagued their lives. Imelda didn’t pay much attention. It wasn’t don’t because she didn’t care but rather that what troubled others didn’t necessarily effect her life. She couldn’t relate to their issues.

One woman feared that her family was growing apart. Imelda felt deeply for her, but it was the living family that was drifting. Such matters were out of their hands. One man was upset that his family was forgetting him but that it was the dead, not the living. He refused to speak to them and thought that since the slight was on them that they should be the first to apologize. Imelda felt that he should have made the first move but when she gently brought it up, he shut her down.

After that, Imelda didn’t care much for talking. She decided that she would spend the rest of the session in her own thoughts and feelings until…

“My name is Maria Guzman. I work in the Newly Dead Department and…” she rubbed the back of her neck. “It is one of the hardest jobs that I’ve ever had. When you first sign up for it, you know that you’re going to be interacting with people who have died but they never tell you how or how old they were. As you may know, a couple of months ago, there was an earthquake. A…a lot of children died. And….oh dios, I’ve seen a lot of dead children in my time. At first, it used to bug me. I would cry all the time. I would scream and curse and…I would punch the walls in my apartment because I was so pissed that whatever force in the world had decided that it was their time to die.”

“And now?” Imelda asked.

“Now?” she bitterly laughed. “I don’t feel a thing. I see a dead kid and I know that there’s thousands of them here and that there will be thousands more and more and more….and I don’t care. I can’t feel anything.”

“That’s common in your life of work,” spoke the counselor in a sagely voice. “How long have you worked for the department?”

“I don’t know. A little over a hundred? I’ve stopped keeping track. Don’t get me wrong, when I came on, I loved my job. I was happy that I got to be the first person that people got to see once they were dead and I could explain everything to them. I could make their afterlives better by explaining everything. But there are some people that you can’t help. It’s been happening more and more lately. The kids are the toughest. They don’t know what’s going on. They’re just scared out of their minds and they want their moms and dads…but some of the adults are pretty hard to take too,” Maria took a deep breath.

“A couple of years after I started on the job, there was this guy who died suddenly. Now, most people who die suddenly, never take it well at all. They’ll do all sorts of crazy things like threaten, beg, even bargain but this guy was different. I can’t explain it but there was something about him that was just sad. We thought he might have been a suicide case but that wasn’t it….um once he learned that he could visit his family again on Dios de las Muertos, he was happy but then when his time came to visit, he was not honored by his family. It happens. People die and for whatever reason, they’re not allowed back home.”

Imelda watched Maria like a hawk. They locked eyes and knew exactly who she was talking about.

“…after the man wasn’t allowed to cross, well…he kinda went crazy. He would boast that he would get home and year after year, he tried and he failed. It was kinda funny at first but then…it just got sad. You could see that he was being forgotten and I don’t know. I just expected him to go through the Final Death. And that’s awful! Like here’s this person! He’s got a family and he had a life and I thought nothing of him dying. I felt nothing at all.”

Imelda sharply gasped and Maria felt the shame and guilt accompanied by it.  

“It happens a lot in the department. People come and people go. You get so used to it that it’s like dying all over again. I know the guy. He’s a good person. He’s still around but I don’t know. I can’t feel anything. I wish I did.”

Maria said nothing for the rest of the session. People gave her advice and certainly felt for her and her situation but only Imelda saw the dead look in her eyes. When the session was over, Imelda made it a point to seek Maria out.

“Ms. Guzman,” spoke Imelda. “May I have a word with you?”

“No disrespect intended Mrs. Rivera but I really –“

“Thank you.”

“What?”

“For keeping Hector’s name out of this. Our family is in the spotlight far too often these days and we value our privacy.”

“You’re welcome…um, I know it’s not my place to ask but how is he?”

“Hector is…Hector. He’s enjoying being with his family again.”

“That’s great,” smiled Maria. “Hey look, about us, the department not caring…we don’t do it because we’re jerks or anything. It’s just that –“

“I know what it’s like to not feel anything. Lately, all I’ve felt is fear and anger. You don’t have to explain yourself to me or anyone else.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Rivera.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm 95% sure I don't have to tag for character death when the character in question dies in the film. It's hard when you're writing about skeletons.


End file.
